Grey Broken Glass
by legendaryhuntress
Summary: Not a single tear was shed by Annabeth Chase the moment she'd discovered that Percy died. She transformed into a machine of flesh and bone, working, obsessed, to avenge his death. Not a single tear was shed by Annabeth, but her eyes were empty, shattered, like grey broken glass, with not soul behind it. Not a drop of humanity. One shot


**Grey Broken Glass**

**Summary: **Not a single tear was shed by Annabeth Chase the moment she'd discovered that Percy died. She transformed into a machine of flesh and bone, working, obsessed, to avenge his death. Not a single tear was shed by Annabeth, but her eyes were empty, shattered, like grey broken glass, with not soul behind it. Not a drop of humanity.

…

People deal with heartbreak in ways as various and diverse as people themselves. But in the rocking deck of the Argo II, the other demigods of the Prophecy wished Annabeth would just break down and cry. Like a weak, crumpled, broken hearted girl. Instead of _this_.

Annabeth leaned against the railing, looking over the vast expanse of sea, now looking lifeless, as if it mourned the death of its passed Prince. Her grey eyes looked like they were shattered pieces of glass; ready to charge and strike down every sea creature with one blow. They were _that_ lethal.

Her eyes seemed off. Not a single tear drop streamed down her face, nor did her eyes sparkle with the threat of it. It was like the grey orbs just shattered, and her soul escaped to hell knows where, leaving behind a robot of flesh and bone, with a sole purpose and defiant drive. To avenge the death of Percy Jackson. No matter what – no matter who she has to kill, no matter what she has to do.

This unnerved the rest of the crew, who were so close to breaking down and laying down the weapons, wanting to call out the nearest sea monster to devour them to spare them the misery of witnessing their failure – the end of the world as they lose it to the Giants. But it was Annabeth who slapped, punched, stab-threatened the sense into them. And it was like they were working on that drive, that drive of anger and revenge. They were being led, operated by a machine whose grief chased its soul away.

Piper sighed. She was scared, terrified of Annabeth that moment. But she gulped down the acidic fear down her throat and took the plunge. She put her hand on Annabeth's shoulder, and almost jumped when she turned her head in response. "Don't you think it's time to go get some rest for the night?" Piper suggested sweetly, subtly injecting as much charm speak as she could, given how her heart was racing.

Annabeth only faced her, her eyes stormier than ever, angry and determined. She had a small smile on her face, like she was ready to kill. Not good. "Say, Piper," she said in a way that made Piper's voice box crawl up and down her throat, "do you think this plan could work?"

She explained in brief a plan that could help defeat Gaia and her forces of Giants, but in return would leave both demigod camps wiped out. With the way she said it, with a tinge of enjoyment, made Piper want to permanently hide under her bed. Annabeth's lips went back to a straight line, but the look in her eyes was still harsh, intense, like shards ready to stab and mutilate. Then, she just turned away and started heading towards the cabins. "Oh, well," she shrugs, "better think of another plan."

She disappears into the shadows of the hall, almost like a child of Hades. Jason, planted on a hard, wooden dining chair, drops his forehead to his palms. Clearly stressed, depressed, grieving, and ready to burst into an explosion of electrically mad proportions. The rest just stay the way they were, staring into space, as if no longer capable of thought. As if they didn't even _want_ to be capable of thought. Capable of remembering how Percy was brutally killed, sacrificing his life for the sake of pushing on to this war, until they defeated the Giants. His leg was still somewhere in the ship..

…

"Annabeth, we have to retreat!" Malcolm yelled, though with a voice strained with fatigue and the cold, icy winds of the storm. He lashed out at monsters with his celestial bronze weapons, like pretty much every other demigod around him. He fought hard to concentrate on a planning, but nothing would come to mind. It seemed completely hopeless. Only death awaited them, no matter what they do.

The Giants were going to wipe them down.

"NOT AN OPTION!" Annabeth screamed and defiance, lashing a bronze weapon she picked up from a fallen demigod at the horde of Tartarus's finest coming at her. "We fight, that's the only thing left to do, until we come up with a pla-"

"We'll all be dead before that happens!"

"It's better to die trying than to die quitting!"

"Annabeth, this is going to get as all killed. If we retreat, we could find a better plan to-"

"We can find a better plan right now!"

"Like what, Annabeth?" another Athena kid, new, young, about fourteen, screams. "What plan can you think of, fuelled by hatred and adrenaline like this, when you can only focus on keeping yourself-" he gets cut off by his own screaming, he has been pierced with a hellish monster's stinger, "_alive_."

"I don't care what I have to do," Annabeth yelled, almost louder than the thunder and lightning that followed. "Percy died so we could all carry on. So we could defeat Gaia, and save the world. If we give up, he would've died for nothing. I'm not gonna let that happen. We'll win. We have to, no matter what I have to do!"

…

Blood. Wounds. Death. More deaths than they could've imagined. But they won. They've actually won. The fallen could rest in peace, knowing that their sacrifices have not been for naught, and they have helped win the war for the sake of humanity.

Annabeth, in the middle of the bloody, corpse-strewn battle field, drops to her knees, shaking violently, as if she was bare and caught in a snow storm. "We won," she whispers, "we actually won." She laughs. Then again, only louder. Louder. Louder.

"Annabeth," Hazel ran towards her, and holds her by the shoulders. The other demigods, the few fortunate survivors, follow. They are all too tired and battle-numbed to be alarmed by her hysterical fits of laughter. She was mad. Insane. "Annabeth, please!"

And then that's when the tears fell. She wasn't laughing anymore, but crying, making tear-tracks on her grease, soot, and blood-stained face. The sound of her sob was all they could hear, like it vacuumed the rest of the world. Annabeth puts her hands on her face and leans down, shaking, shaking so violently.

"Percy," she whispers, "we did it. All thanks to you, we did it!" She half cries, half laughs. "You don't have to worry. It's all over. Everything you did, it wasn't for nothing. Percy, I-" with that she stopped.

"Annabeth?" Hazel whispered, and soon she finds herself holding up a passed-out Annabeth. Hazel noticed for the first time the blood staining Annabeth's shirt, from the deep wound on her stomach. But then she realized it was too late for any first aid. Just a look at Nico's grim face proved it all. She's gone.

Another war casualty.

…

_I'm a little insane right now. Bare with me. A take on Annabeth when Percy dies – she becomes completely insane and obsessed with fulfilled what he died for. The leg part was Shingeki no Kyojin part. I am insane._

_So please review, tell me what you think (what you really, really think – woops, I Spice Girls'ed!)_

_Peace out, and why not follow me on the following?_

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_Twitter: __ /monroh31_

_ (you can just ask me a question with this one): __ /ROllingintheRiverStyx_

_NOW. Thank you all so much for reading! I'll be back to college this Tuesday. And I want to go back to a few months ago when I wasn't a year away from adulthood. *sighs*_


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